Doris had been almost asleep when her cell phone rang. It was Car, asking if she could come to the motel. He had a gift he wanted to give her before he left town the following morning. Now, standing at the door of his motel room, Doris felt more ridiculous than ever before. She did not know what she expected or even should expect. After all, Car was a man of the world, a filmmaker. What was she? A career waitress in a one-stoplight town. Before she could turn and rush back to her house, the door opened and there he was.
“I thought I heard a car. How long were you standing here?”
She stepped past him and into the room. “Longer than I"d like to admit.”
She tossed her purse onto the dresser and sat down on the foot of the bed. Rooms at the motel were small, even by motel standards. Car"s r
